


Starks and Daynes and Daynes and Starks

by waterlilyvioletfog



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/F, GRRM GIVE SANSA A LADY KNIGHT GF 2K19, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, allyria is the sotm, i will fill the sansa stark wlw tag myself if need be, jon moping about sam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-30 03:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20807462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterlilyvioletfog/pseuds/waterlilyvioletfog
Summary: Sansa goes to Dorne as an envoy of the North, looking for lemons and finds true love instead, in the shape of the Sword of the Morning- Lady Allyria Dayne of Starfall.





	Starks and Daynes and Daynes and Starks

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there humans. I don't think this will be too terribly long- maybe as much as seven chapters, but likely fewer. I might not update with any sort of consistency, but I will try to work on it as much as I am able.   
Enjoy!

When they received the letter from Dorne, Jon sighed and moped about for days. It was disconcerting. To be certain, her brother was prone to brooding and melancholy, but this was simply absurd. Sansa had to understand. 

So, she pestered him. 

"Jon, why do you not wish to go to Dorne? There is no reason for you _not_ to go to Dorne." 

Jon exhaled through his nose, looking mournfully across the yard where Alys Karstark's oldest son was sparring with a Manderly boy. "My place is here, in Winterfell, helping Bran." 

"But this _would_ be helping Winterfell. You know that it's important we foster relations with the Southern kingdoms if we wish to both be independent _and_ make it through the next winter; that's the whole reason Uncle Brandon was ever engaged to my Mother and Aunt Lyanna to Robert Baratheon in the first place. And besides," she waved the letter in his face, "it was sent by a friend of yours, Samwell Tarly. I _know_ he was a friend of yours. Don't even attempt to tell me otherwise. _He_ wrote this, he's _in Sunspear_. You haven't seen him in what, seven years?" 

"Eight. Before the War, or Daenerys." 

"Well you could go see him there! Wouldn't you like that?" 

"If it's so important that we be on friendly terms with the Dornish, go yourself." 

"Then I will." Jon had not been trained in the art of overseeing a trade deal as she had been, so it was probably best she go, anyway. 

But she was bothered nonetheless.

"Answer me this though, Jon: why do you not wish to see your friend?" He just sighed at her more, looking guilty and conflicted, clenching and unclenching his right fist, a habit of his when he was frustrated or nervous. Which, Sansa wasn't sure. 

"You wouldn't understand, Sansa." 

"True enough, I don't understand." 

Sansa knew that Jon had done some things he regretted while he'd been in the Night's Watch (he'd never bothered to divulge the details) but she was fairly certain he'd never _murdered_ anyone. So, why he was being so childish about visiting Sunspear- and thus his friend- for trade negotiations- which were vital because, as she had explained to Jon, she needed lemons or she would _die_\- she simply did not understand. 

But she went. She took a small retinue with her to White Harbour, where a ship _(T_ _ he Leviathan's Fin) _ was enlisted to bring her down the coast to Sunspear. It took several weeks as they made stops at Gulltown and King's Landing along the way. Gulltown was much lovelier without Littlefinger hovering over her shoulder, but King's Landing still stank. 

Eventually, they arrived at Sunspear, where the Martells had held their seat for centuries. They were greeted at the docks by Prince Trystane Martell of Dorne, now ruling over Sunspear following the death of his siblings, and his retinue. Trystane was a year younger than Sansa, having seen perhaps twenty namedays. He had olive skin she recalled his uncle having, dark eyes and hair. Sansa thought him handsome, but certainly no Loras Tyrell. Trystane greeted Sansa with a smile. His teeth were very even. He wore orange robes patterned with golden suns embroidered into the silken fabric. Not ostentatious- but refined. Elegant. 

"Lady Stark," he said to her, bowing. 

"Prince Trystane. It is lovely to be invited here to Dorne. My brother Jon sends his apologies that he could not be here himself; we are currently planning a new glass garden in Winterfell and he wished to stay and oversee the development." It was not a lie- Jon _had_ argued that the new glass garden was a reason for him to stay behind. It was also not entirely the truth. Bloody obstinate craven of a brother. 

"It is no trouble, your ladyship. We understand that much of Winterfell has needed rebuilding since the Wars ended. Come, my lady. Let us make our way up to the castle." 

The city was twisty and a bit crooked in its layout- as if the builders had gone through their days trying to avoid the sun even as they laid down bricks. And it was sandy- sandy and _hot_. The heat was greater than Sansa was accustomed to and she sweltered even in the light clothes she had brought for the journey. She was grateful for the veil she wore when she saw how her men squinted the sand and sun from their eyes. 

As she walked, she looked about at the other members of Prince Trystane's party. There were several knights, or at least she thought they were knights, and quite a few ladies, all wearing court fashions. 

One member of the group caught Sansa's notice more than the others- a knight whose dress was purple, with a massive sword strapped to his back. The knight had long, thick, dark hair, but Sansa could not tell aught else about him from where she walked. 

Sunspear itself was a cool building- shadowy in the sun's light. It was a palace of marble and tile, stone and sand. She had heard that the Water Gardens were a thing of beauty- Sunspear was not. Sunspear deserved its name. 

The chambers she was shown to were dark, too, but well furnished. 

Prince Trystane bowed again. 

"I shall leave you now to settle yourself before we begin talking of anything too serious." 

"Thank you, my Prince." 

Sansa flopped onto her bed with a sigh. Oh, the things she did for lemoncake. 

**Author's Note:**

> *sighs at Jon*


End file.
